


Gun

by Soyna



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Crisis Core, Gun Kink, Hurt, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-04
Updated: 2010-04-04
Packaged: 2017-10-12 06:03:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/121628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soyna/pseuds/Soyna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tseng has to use his gun to persuade Rufus to cooperate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gun

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** All related Final Fantasy names and characters are copyrighted by the almighty Square Enix©. I do not profit from this endeavour.

Rufus had refused any help or medical assistance on the field or during the ride back. He did not want to appear weak, despite the fact that he had been shot in the stomach twice with a shotgun. He tried to make it appear as if his biggest concern was the fact that his suit was ruined.

Tseng closed the door sharply behind him. Rufus kept his back to Tseng as he walked into his padded prison. "Strip."

He turned slightly as he saw Tseng lock the door securely behind him. The leader of the Turks was working rapidly on his phone, but his dark eyes were raised to him.

"I already told you that I was fine," Rufus said, trying not to look startled at the proclamation of Tseng wanting him to take off his clothes.

"I don't care what you say in this matter. Strip," Tseng said as he flipped his phone shut. Tseng placed it inside his jacket, folding his arms, and he lowered his chin in a threatening manner. "Why aren't you complying?"

"I'm not going to strip," Rufus snapped, even though he wanted nothing more than to take the suit off. He could feel parts of his chest burning and he could feel the wetness of something that could be sweat or blood on his stomach, but he didn't want to show that he was weak and needing to have the Turks save him.

He didn't like being saved by the Turks - he was not some damsel in distress. Tseng and Rude had swooped in and took down the attacker. Rude promptly broke the man's arm, making sure that he would never use that hand again and Tseng used an EMR that Rufus didn't even know that the man carried.

Rude was taking care of the attacker now. Rufus knew that the man would never leave the interrogation room alive. Rude wouldn't ask the questions but just held and scared the attacker. Tseng would deal with him later and he wouldn't leave alive.

Rufus pulled the gun out that he kept in his coat. He was hoping to use it once he recovered from the second shot, but the Turks had already taken care of the idiot that thought he could kill him.

He threw it on the coffee table. He would need a new gun now. The handle was shredded from the buckshot.

"I'm not stripping for your pleasure," Rufus said with a frown. He needed Tseng to leave. His stomach was most likely bruised from the attack and it hurt to sit upright. The car ride back to his condo had been painful enough.

Tseng walked forward, taking off his black jacket as he did so. "You will take off your suit and you will show me if you are injured," Tseng said curtly as he moved forward. "I will not have you injured."

Rufus turned his gaze to meet Tseng's. He knew that he could meet his gaze and usually win, but not all the time. Tseng's dark cool gaze was something that he knew scared his father and was used to intimidate even the coolest of SOLDIERs. Tseng was a man that one did not mess with but then, neither was Rufus himself.

"I am fine." Rufus spoke each word firmly and briskly, even as he ran a hand over the destroyed front of his suit and felt the throbbing pain that was beneath it.

Tseng's hand moved forward and started to grapple with his buttons. Rufus pulled back sharply. "I can take care of my own suit. Back off. I will take care of this myself."

Tseng's lips twisted slightly. Not many people would have noticed the change on his face. Rufus always noticed everything about Tseng.

"I have been dressing and undressing myself since I was three years old. You can leave now," Rufus said curtly.

"I cannot leave until I assess your injuries," Tseng said and reached behind his back with one hand. "You will remove your suit so that I can examine your chest and stomach."

"There is nothing wrong with me!" Rufus lied loudly. "You can leave! I want a stiff drink and to go to bed after this traumatic day."

"You can do that after you remove your suit and let me assess your injuries."

"You're repeating yourself," Rufus said. "And I don't want to repeat myself again."

Tseng made a small grunting sound and pulled the arm from behind his back. "Strip," Tseng said simply as he held a gun in his hand. It was one that he didn't see very often as Tseng usually used two smaller guns that he had nestled under his arms. This was a much larger gun and Rufus knew that it was his favourite weapon. "Or I will create a wound that will force me to take that suit off you."

He stood with his back straight and stared into those cold, dark eyes. "You wouldn't dare."

Tseng smiled. It showed no teeth and it did not reach his eyes. "I will do whatever it takes to get my goals accomplished." Rufus gasped as the gun was pressed against his neck. "Now. Strip, sir."

Rufus was a bit startled at the demand. He felt the cold touch of the weapon as it moved from the collar of his jacket up to his jaw. He moved his head as Tseng ran the weapon back down. The feel of the metal and the deadly man behind it caused his breath to hitch and his eyes to focus on him.

"You like the feel of steel against your skin?" Tseng whispered and moved closer. The hand not holding the gun reached forward and began to undo the buttons that were on the front of his jacket.

Rufus pressed his lips together and his eyes focused on Tseng's. He didn't need to tell the man how sensual that simple act was after the adrenaline of the day.

He was not supposed to be weak in any way, shape or form. He was going to be the next leader of the Shin-Ra Electric Power Company, and he had to have the respect of everyone beneath him.

"Take off your jacket."

Rufus shrugged his shoulders and it slipped off, letting his white coat drop to the floor.

"There is a lot of damage to your vest," Tseng whispered, still holding the gun to the skin at his throat. "It looks like the shot made it through." Tseng moved the gun to push against the top of his black turtleneck.

"It did its job," Rufus said, lifting his chin defiantly. It was lined with Kevlar that was supposed to prevent the shot from touching his skin.

"Remove it," Tseng demanded.

Rufus wanted to be defiant about it, but that gun that was pressed against his throat moved underneath his chin, forcing him to look up. "We will need your clothes for the investigation. I don't want to have to cut them off you."

Rufus found his fingers going to the buckles on his vest. There were normally three of them, but one of them had been disintegrated in the shotgun blast. He fiddled with the remaining two, still not taking his eyes off Tseng.

"That is still a lame excuse to get me to undress," Rufus whispered.

He let it slide off his shoulders and it fell on top of his coat. He wanted to look down to see how much damage was done to his white shirt. Tseng's eyes darted down. The gun was removed from his chin. Tseng fisted his shirt and tugged. "There is blood."

"I'm f …" Rufus stopped as Tseng pressed the gun against his cheek. He couldn't form words from the tense look he received.

"You were injured and you were hiding this from me," Tseng said as his eyes looked back down at his shirt. Rufus wished he knew how much blood was on his shirt so that he could see why Tseng was acting like this. "Take it off, now."

"I can hardly feel it," Rufus said, the gun pressing harder against his chin. He resisted turning his head to the side as he had to try to hold onto his dignity.

"Take it off."

Rufus fumbled with the buttons. There were a few missing around his belly and he just undid the top remaining few before Tseng fisted the shirt and tugged. The gun was removed from his face and he felt himself being pushed and the shirt ripped from him.

He turned back to Tseng, who was still holding the gun and his bloody shirt. There was quite a bit of blood on the front of the white shirt. It startled him. He was not aware that he was that badly hurt.

Tseng looked at him. "Take off that shirt." Tseng threw the tattered and bloody shirt on the table, covering up the gun he threw there earlier. The gun most likely stopped a bunch of the damage that he could have received.

"It's just a little bit of blood. It's nothing that a Turk couldn't handle," Rufus said. He had seen his Turks walking around with a lot worse injuries than a few scratches.

"You're not a Turk," Tseng said. He held the gun up to him. "Take off that shirt."

"I'm your boss," Rufus said. He ran his hand over his torso. He could feel the wetness there and as he pulled his hand back, he could see the blood there. He did not want to remove his last layer of clothing and be nearly naked in front of Tseng.

"Take off your shirt," Tseng demanded as he brought the gun up and pointed it at him. "Don't make me repeat myself."

Rufus took a couple of deep breaths as he looked at the fury that was in Tseng's eyes.

"You're too important to put yourself at risk. This is way too dangerous of a situation for you to allow yourself to be in."

"I can hardly feel it," Rufus lied.

Tseng tilted the gun. "Now, sir."

Rufus reached to the hem of his black undershirt and tugged on it gently. That was when he felt the small tug against his skin as if he were pulling at some scrapes that were there. He bit back the grimace and kept his face straight. It wouldn't do any good to show that he was actually hurt.

"I don't like this situation," Rufus said, narrowing his grey-blue eyes at the dark Turk.

"If you would have stripped when I told you to, this wouldn't be a problem." Tseng waved the gun for him to continue. Rufus couldn't help but notice that Tseng's eyes were focused on his stomach.

Rufus pulled up the shirt and started to raise it above his head. That was when he felt Tseng move even closer near him. He felt a firm arm suddenly grab the shirt. He couldn't' help but feel a little panicked as he couldn't see what Tseng was doing. Rufus could only feel the Turk near him.

He yelled out in alarm as he felt himself being pushed. He tried to finish pulling the shirt over his head so that he could see. Tseng seemed to be manipulating him and he thought he was falling. He suddenly could see and feel himself being tossed rather roughly on the couch.

His arms and shirt were tangled above his head and he couldn't move. Tseng was twisting the shirt around his wrists so that he couldn't pull them out of his deadly grip.

He tried to control the panic that he felt. He tried to tug his arms out of his black shirt but Tseng twisted the fabric in his hands and made him stretch his arms further above his head.

Tseng looked down at him with that small smile on his lips and his dark eyes blinked slowly, and he seemed … amused.

"What are you doing?" Rufus whispered as he felt that cool metal of the gun brush against his throat again. He lifted his chin and tried to pull away.

"I'm checking you for injuries, sir," Tseng said as he hovered over him.

Tseng's eyes were not on his stomach though. They were focused on his face and Rufus tried not to blush with the thought of what Tseng was doing to him. Tseng started to move that gun down the side of his throat again.

Rufus couldn't hold back the thrilled gasp that escaped his lips as the gun moved to his collarbone. Tseng continued to gently drag the gun slowly down his chest. Rufus couldn't see what he was doing with the weapon but he sure felt the muzzle of it tickling him.

"Tseng," he whispered as he felt the metal press into one of the cuts on his midrift. Tseng's eyes turned to look down. Rufus couldn't see the damage to his stomach, but he could see Tseng furrow his brow and frown.

"This is unacceptable. The tailor will have to find some better material. The buckle from your vest is imbedded here," Tseng said. Rufus felt the gun poke at something in his wound, and he groaned and tried to move away from the sharp pain that was created. "We will have to ensure those buckles are plastic next time."

He struggled; he needed to get up and out of this situation. He didn't like being docile and not in control. Rufus tried to pull his hands out of the shirt but Tseng twisted his grip again and looked back up at him. "It's not serious, but the healing will sting when the buckshot and buckle push out," Tseng said. Rufus continued to twist away until the gun dug into his belly, causing him to stop.

"Are you going to call a medic?" Rufus asked. There was no way he was going to allow a medic to see him like this.

The gun pressed into his stomach again and he gave out a small cry. Tseng leaned into him in a manner that alarmed him. "But there is a way to distract you from it."

Rufus tried to free his hands again but Tseng expertly twisted the cloth and leaned closer to him so that his face was right above his.

"What are you doing?" Rufus whispered. Tseng was way too close to him for comfort. Those dark eyes were peering directly into his. His whole world was in the eyes that were looking down at him and the gun that was pressed against his wound.

"Prepare yourself," Tseng warned.

Rufus was about to ask what he was supposed to prepare for, when he felt a strange tingle take over his belly. It hurt and he cried out and tried to move away. He didn't hear a gunshot and the gun didn't seem to be pressing harder, but the pain caused him to try to arch away from the touch. He felt the soft tingle that came from using materia thread through his body.

He was about to demand Tseng to explain himself when he felt lips pressed against his. Rufus cried against Tseng's lips. The kiss was deep and he felt Tseng's tongue force his way into his mouth and dominate him. He didn't have the strength to fight back; the pressure of the gun and the feeling of something happening to his stomach with the addition of the distracting kiss were confusing him.

He tried to free his hands and wiggle away from the touch of the gun, but didn't want to move away from the kiss. He lifted his chin to try to get some control of the mouth that was dominating him.

The tingling and pain stopped in his stomach. The gun's metal was no longer as cold, as Tseng moved it down to catch in the hem of his pants.

Tseng pulled away from the kiss and looked down Rufus' body. "Better?" Tseng asked, still holding himself close to him. "Are there other parts of yours that need attention?"

Rufus tried to free his hands again but Tseng still refused to let them go. He was still lying on the couch feeling very exposed and vulnerable.

Tseng moved the gun, tracing the barrel up to his chest again. Rufus shivered at the movement and touch. He was more aware of those dark eyes examining him than he had ever felt in the past. Tseng stopped in the center of his chest. He laid the gun there and Tseng's warm hand moved down his flank.

Rufus whimpered at the change from the cold metal to the hand that sent his body tingling. He felt Tseng brush his stomach with his adept fingers. He heard something small and metal bounce on the wood floor.

"Six pieces of buckshot got through, as well as the buckle that nearly imbedded in your bellybutton. I will be personally firing your tailor." Tseng's hand rested with his palm close to his hipbone; his fingers gently stroked the places where the buckshot had been embedded. "And you did not feel it?"

Rufus shook his head, not trusting his voice at the moment. He didn't dare lie to Tseng about how uncomfortable it was to have the wounds. Tseng would see right through him and Rufus didn't know how he would behave.

"They were not deep and your adrenaline was most likely kicking in," Tseng whispered. "This is why you must obey me when I tell you to strip. Small injuries can lead to further difficulties."

Rufus tried to pull his arms free. The weight of the gun on his chest and the warmth of the hand that was resting on his flat stomach was becoming too much. Rufus could see the cure materia nestled in the hilt.

"Tseng," he whimpered, hating that his voice was not as strong-sounding as he wished it to be. He was supposed to be in charge and Tseng was not. Those dark eyes looked at him and that smile was on his lips again; the amused look that he had just before he kissed him. "Are you going to let me up now?"

The hand resting on him moved, just a little lower than it was before, and it made him bite his lip at the almost electric sensation. "I don't know. There still might be other injuries that you may not be aware of." Rufus felt the shirt above his head being tugged and twisted. He could feel the stretch in his shoulders more with the new tightness.

"He only got those two shots off," Rufus whispered.

"Two shots too many," Tseng said, his face becoming cold and stern, but the hand on his bare stomach still gently caressed his skin. "I will not allow another failure such as this to happen to you again, sir."

"You can't predict everything," Rufus whispered as he stared in those intense eyes.

"I will work harder," Tseng said and leaned forward again so that their lips touched. It started off as gentle, their lips moving together. Rufus didn't fight the kiss and he let his eyes close, and he found that he was enjoying the control of the Turk. Rufus was very aware of all these new and wonderful sensations. The cool gun on his chest, the hot mouth against his, and the warm hand stroking against his quivering belly. Tseng's tongue started to caress his bottom lip until it was captured between sharp teeth. Rufus gasped as he could no longer refrain from moving. He arched his back, causing the gun to slip from his chest and the hand on his stomach to push down.

Tseng released his lip and smiled down at him. Tseng's hand moved from him to retrieve the gun that had slipped and he twisted to move it to the table.

"Now," Tseng said simply as he turned back, his free hand moving back to Rufus' stomach and he felt a thumb slip under the hem of his pants. Rufus tried to free his arm one more time, but Tseng expertly twisted the shirt again, ensuring that he was still trapped. The curve of the Turk's lips was scary and tantalizing at the same time. The next words that flowed from the Turk's lips sent electricity up his spine, as if he had been hit by an EMR.

"I think I need to check you for further injuries."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> The reason Rufus never bleeds … Kevlar vest … even though he did bleed a little bit here, that tailor is so fired!
> 
> Weapons and stripping seem to be a thing that I have with these two. It suits them so well and I seem to be enjoying making Tseng own Rufus as well. Even though, I didn't strip Tseng this time, but Rufus.
> 
> :iconka-bu-ki: art trade request. I let a plot bunny free … see what happens.  
> Hope you enjoyed this, dear readers.


End file.
